


The Age of Aquarius

by rendawnie



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Astrology, Fauns & Satyrs, First Meetings, Humor, M/M, Magic, Shapeshifting, Succubi & Incubi, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7064137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rendawnie/pseuds/rendawnie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’d worked at the little New Age store that the gods forgot together for the last year, and Youngjae had made it his personal mission since day one to stretch and test the limits of Jongup’s predicament. </p><p>Not all shapeshifters were as ruled by their emotions as Jongup was, which was why he intentionally kept a tight lid on them, to the point where he usually seemed spaced out or disinterested or both. Only a few people had managed to break through his odd exterior to get to the heart of Jongup, and Youngjae was proud to be one of them.</p><p>(In which Himchan is a mystery, Youngjae is a little twerp, and Jongup is very, very Over It.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Age of Aquarius

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AwkwardBeansidhe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardBeansidhe/gifts).



Youngjae strolled into the shop three hours late, sunglasses firmly attached to his very hungover face and his sixth cup of coffee in hand. Jongup sat behind the counter, reading that month’s _Magickal Almanac_ calmly. He didn’t look up when Youngjae threw open the door and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“You’re _LATE,_ Jonguppie.”

Jongup raised one eyebrow, sipping his Earl Grey calmly. “I’ve been here since ten, Youngjae. Y’know. In the morning? When we actually open?”

Youngjae gave a beleaguered sigh, tossing his bag onto the counter of the nearly empty shop and seating himself on the stool next to Jongup.

“I’m _sorry_ , okay? Last night was wild, man. Yongguk learned how to fire-bend and we were out at the lake for hours watching him. He almost burnt his eyebrows off a couple of times, but it was rad.” Youngjae reported, pretty much all in one breath, stopping himself with another deep swig of the caffeine he desperately needed to get through today.

Jongup frowned slightly, closing his book. “How come I never get invited to these shenanigans?”

Youngjae chuckled. “Because you’re like ninety-five years old, mentally, and you go to bed before things get interesting.”

The frown increased. “Do not. Things are interesting in the daylight, too. A lot of interesting things have happened since I got here today, in fact.”

Youngjae affected his best dutifully curious expression. “Oh? Such as?”

Jongup scratched his arm idly, biting his lip in deep thought.

“Well. Um...that one guy who’s probably a serial killer? He came in asking for belladonna. Not just a little. He wanted like, twenty pounds of the shit. I had to get physical to get him to leave.”

Youngjae snorted. “By ‘physical’, I assume you mean that you accidentally shifted into a very large boulder and rolled him directly out of the store.”

Jongup refused to admit that Youngjae was at least seventy-five percent correct.

“ _Anyway._ ” Jongup muttered, after an uncomfortable amount of silence had passed between them. “I’m glad you had a good night, I guess.” He threw his almanac down on the counter, picking up his empty cup and stalking towards the back of the shop to make another.

Youngjae sighed, following him. “ _Jong_ uppie, come onnnnn. You know we don’t leave you out on purpose. We just try to be respectful of your bedtime.” He smirked, itching to get a rise out of his Buddha-esque coworker.

When the sound of Jongup’s porcelain cup shattering in his fist echoed through the back room of the shop, Youngjae gamely pretended not to notice.

Calmly, Jongup got the broom and dustpan nearby and began to sweep up the shards that had fallen to the floor. Youngjae made himself useful finding another cup and brewing Jongup’s tea himself. It was the least he could do after giving him so much shit.

They’d worked at the little New Age store that the gods forgot together for the last year, and Youngjae had made it his personal mission since day one to stretch and test the limits of Jongup’s predicament. As an incubus, Youngjae was used to deploying his particular skill set to manipulate, gently or otherwise, anyone and everyone around him to his will. Normally, that will was quite firmly on the sensual side of things, to put it lightly.

Jongup was a shifter, and practically a monk, where sex was concerned. As far as Youngjae knew, he hadn’t even been out on a single date in the entire time they’d known each other. Every time he tried to broach the subject, Jongup lost all control of his emotions and turned into a puffin, of all things. Youngjae kept the large basin sink in the back of the shop full of ice cold water, just in case Jongup puffin-ed out of nowhere.

Not all shapeshifters were as ruled by their emotions as Jongup was, which was why he intentionally kept a tight lid on them, to the point where he usually seemed spaced out or disinterested or both. Only a few people had managed to break through his odd exterior to get to the heart of Jongup, and Youngjae was proud to be one of them.

They’d had to make an agreement that Youngjae was never again allowed to use his powers of seduction on Jongup. He’d tried once, when he was bored. Jongup had been a vase for three days after that epic freak-out.

When Youngjae turned around with the fresh, full cup of tea, Jongup was nowhere to be found. Youngjae cocked his head to the side, listening for possible clues. He heard the sounds of glass clinking together, and Jongup grumbling under his breath, and then he followed the sounds to the expansive dried herb section of the store.

Jongup was talking to himself, and digging through the bin of feverfew, pulling the small white and yellow flowers out a handful at a time and shoving them into his mouth, chewing between mutters. Youngjae rolled his eyes, setting the warm mug down and approaching Jongup carefully, slamming the lid to the bin shut when he got close enough.

They glared at each other for a while, locked into a nonverbal stalemate. Finally, Youngjae pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head, squinting at the sudden brightness. He rubbed his tired eyes exasperatedly, keeping his voice as low as possible so his face didn’t melt. He was pretty sure that was an actual hangover symptom.

“Fuck are you doing, man?” Youngjae murmured, staring at Jongup staring into the closed bin of flowers.

“You give me migraines. Feverfew is good for migraines.” Jongup said softly, deflating a little.

Youngjae tugged on Jongup’s hand, putting a few steps of distance between him and the herbs, just in case he tried to eat the aforementioned belladonna too, and put himself out of his misery for good.

Silently, Youngjae ripped a paper towel off the roll attached to the herbal display, holding it under Jongup’s mouth. Jongup sighed, but spit out the flowers obediently, looking more annoyed than headachy.

When Youngjae had disposed of the half-eaten herbs properly, he took Jongup’s hand again, and they went back out into the front of the deserted shop, resuming their seats silently.

Youngjae observed Jongup as he sipped his tea, the very picture of icy calm now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked finally, out of ideas.

Jongup snorted. “No. When do I ever want to talk about it? I mean, I haven’t been on a date in ages and I haven’t gotten laid in even more ages and I’m constantly in a state of frozen ennui and I kind of hate having to control myself as much as I do and everything is the worst and I want to go to parties with you guys and I want to see Yongguk bend fire and I want to not be an old man who goes to bed at 9 in the evening but I don’t know how to do that without letting myself feel things and turning into like six different jungle animals in under ten minutes so there’s that, but no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Youngjae waited a moment to respond, just to make sure Jongup was done.

“Also I’m pretty sure my landlord thinks I’m dead, he hasn’t asked me for rent in two months. Maybe he thinks I’ve moved out, but I’m just quiet. Really quiet.”

He waited some more. Jongup sighed again. “I’m finished now.” he almost whispered, examining his fingernails, just to occupy himself with something.

“Well,” Youngjae started, throwing back the rest of his coffee and picking up Jongup’s tea instead, ignoring the look Jongup gave him.

“I at least know how much it sucks to have to control yourself. I’m a fucking incubus, y’know? If I sat around this place projecting my energy, there would be a massive orgy on the street and you would probably shift into an 18-piece china set permanently.”

Jongup actually chuckled, and Youngjae felt hopeful. Jongup raised his eyes finally, regarding Youngjae with amusement. “Yeah. Probably. How’s that going, anyway?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.

Youngjae took a sip of Jongup’s tea, wrinkled his nose, and handed it back to him before replying. “What, incubus-ing?” Jongup nodded.

Youngjae shrugged. “S’okay. I do okay. I’ve trained myself to survive on getting re-energized only once a week, now. Better than five or six times a day.”

Jongup smirked. “Re-energized. How politically correct of you.”

Youngjae matched his grin. “I try.”

The bell over the front door jingled as a customer entered. It was a regular, one of the three or four regulars they had anymore, and neither Youngjae nor Jongup moved to help the woman now browsing through the athame selection.

Youngjae turned back to his coworker. “Listen, about the rest of it...I’ll make sure you get invited to the next party, okay? And, I have lots of friends. I’m sure I can think of someone to set you up with for a date.”

Jongup snorted, getting up from his stool and stretching. “Youngjae, the last time you set me up was Junhong. Do you remember how that went?”

Youngjae tried to remember how that went, biting his lip as he thought, but he’d had a lot of sex and liquor since then, and his mind failed him. “I mean, it can’t have gone _that_ badly. He’s still hanging out with us.” Youngjae pointed out.

“It was a full moon, Youngjae.” Jongup said meaningfully, intoning the words and giving Youngjae an irritated stare.

Youngjae winced at the thought of Jongup having to run for his life from a reckless, irresponsible, poorly trained werewolf.

“I was a snail before I could even register what was happening. A snail. Do you understand how boring the life of a snail is? The way he was wolf-jumping around and shit, I’m surprised I didn’t get trampled to death while trying to make a _very_ hasty escape.”

Youngjae waved a hand, as if to erase the last minute or so of conversation. “Okay, so I failed once.”

“More than once. I have other stories I’m sure you’ve blocked out.”

“I’m sure I blocked them out for a reason. Point _is,_ I can try again. It could go better.”

Jongup busied himself dusting the jewelry case down. “Your optimism is really unsettling, y’know that?”

Youngjae beamed. “Thank you!”

Jongup was busy thinking of a snappy response when the doorbell rang out again, signaling the woman’s exit from the store without buying anything, as per usual. Jongup watched apathetically as someone held the door open for her, and then swept into the shop.

Instantly, the air was different.

Both he and Youngjae felt it, Jongup could tell. A quick glance in Youngjae’s direction just in time to see his eyes flash white blue was enough of an indication that he was suddenly having to try much harder than usual to keep himself in check. This creature, whoever or whatever it was, carried a heavy presence with it. Jongup focused on counting backwards from a hundred in his mind, even as he was pulling a smile onto his face and speaking to the creature’s impeccably suited back.

“Can I help you?”

When it turned around, Jongup was completely, totally speechless. Like, actually incapable of speech, because he was a butterfly, and he’d never been a butterfly before. He’d never had to look at things through compound eyes, and it took some maneuvering to understand the mechanics, but eventually, he managed to succeed well enough.

First, he looked down at Youngjae, still rooted to his stool behind the counter and staring at Jongup open-mouthed. Then, he looked at the stranger.

It wasn’t a creature at all, at least not at casual glance. It was a man, in a beautifully tailored dark brown suit, and he was beautiful, too.

Butterfly hearts were long. Jongup remembered learning that somewhere, probably on one of his many late night Wikipedia adventures, when sleep eluded him. He knew that fact in the back of his mind, and it returned to him now, as a butterfly, because his heart, now running the length of his whole small body, was beating so fast it was a wonder he wasn’t turning in fast circles in midair.

The man squinted up at him, a small smile coming over his face. He had a bunny-toothed grin that wasn’t dissimilar to Jongup’s. When he had a mouth capable of grinning, that was.

Butterflies didn’t have ears. Jongup remembered that fact a second too late, when their visitor started talking, and he couldn’t hear anything except the buzzing of his own wings. _Ugh_. This random shifting shit was terribly inconvenient, sometimes.

He was in the middle of wondering whether or not this person, or whatever he was, actually, because he was clearly not just human, had seen him shift in the split-second their eyes met, when he came thudding back to himself.

He was _himself_ again, and it was weird, because he was still high on whatever fucking emotion this was, the heart beating and pulse racing feeling he’d had before he shifted. Empirically, that meant he should still be in his shifted form, but here he was, and the man was smiling at him, and he could hear again, because he heard a low, rumbling voice then, felt it washing over him like thunder in a summer rainstorm.

“Hello. I’m Kim Himchan.”

Youngjae sat back on his stool as Jongup scrambled back up into his, thankful for the thousandth time that when he shifted back into his human form, he was almost always wearing a new set of clothes. That was a nice little perk. Useful around strangers.

“Are you sure?” Youngjae asked skeptically, leveling a gaze at the newcomer.

Himchan laughed, an open, easy sound. “Am I sure I’m Kim Himchan? Reasonably, yes.”

Jongup noticed for the first time that Himchan walked with a cane. Somehow, it only added to his debonair aura. He also noticed that Himchan was terribly, painfully, upsettingly handsome. He prayed he wouldn’t shift again just from thinking about what Himchan looked like without the suit on.

Jongup held his breath, waiting for it to happen, because he was feeling way, _way_ too many things, all at once, and he never let himself do this, because every time he did…

Himchan was watching him calmly, and when Jongup let his eyes settle on him again, he started to understand.

Himchan was _doing_ something to Jongup. He had some sort of hold on Jongup’s abilities. He was pushing energy out that was keeping Jongup from shifting against his will, and Jongup should have been scared, or angry, he supposed, but he felt _grateful._

“What the hell are you?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

Himchan chuckled, a quieter sound this time. “I’m Kim Himchan, as I said. And I’m in search of a danso.”

“A fucking _what_?” Youngjae spat, and not only were his eyes glowing that ice-blue again, his hair darkening to an inky-black as Jongup watched, but he was projecting. Not sexual energy, this time. Protective energy. This was the opposite side of Youngjae, the one only Jongup and a precious few seemed to know about. The side where he would go to extremes to make sure anyone he cared about was safe.

Those extremes usually included scare tactics such as this, and they would have worked on a human, or any lesser supernatural.

They did not work on Kim Himchan.

“A danso is a flute, a hand-held flute. Used in classical music, mostly. I’m looking for one. I thought an...eccentric...shop like this one might have one for sale. However, it seems all you have is an intriguing shapeshifter and a posturing incubus. So, that being the case, I’ll bid you good day.”

Himchan actually tipped his hat as he turned to leave, mostly to Jongup. He noticed for the first time that Himchan was wearing a hat.

“Wait,” Jongup said, getting up and darting out from behind the counter, his heart still pounding in his chest as he crossed the shop floor and pulled gently on Himchan’s sleeve.

“Don’t go yet, please. My friend is...he’s sorry. I’m sorry. We don’t get a lot of supes in here. Please, just...what are you? Why am I not shifting anymore? I’d really like to know.” Jongup spilled the words out desperately, watching Himchan’s face as it softened into that little smile again.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, dude,” Youngjae called unregretfully from his spot behind the counter, where he was _very casually_ flipping through Jongup’s almanac at a breakneck speed, not even looking at the pages.

Himchan cast a wary glance towards the door of the shop. It locked on its own, and Jongup tried hard not to react.

Himchan made his way over to the armchairs near the fireplace that occupied one corner of the store, easing himself down onto the nearest one with a grimace. Jongup followed, gesturing over his shoulder for Youngjae to come, too.

“Ugh.” Youngjae replied unnecessarily, but a few long seconds later, he plopped down into the last available chair, next to Jongup, who was next to Himchan.

Himchan was smiling again, all traces of pain having disappeared from his handsome features.

“Once again. My name is Kim Himchan,” he began, hiking up one leg of his slacks to scratch his foot.

His foot. His _hoof._

Hooves. Jongup ran through the special, supernatural Wikipedia stored in his brain. Half hooved creature. Half man.

“Faun. You’re a faun.” Jongup breathed, when he arrived at the answer.

Himchan’s smile turned impressed and mischievous all at once. “Very good. Very good indeed…” he trailed off, motioning for Jongup to help him out.

“Oh. Jongup. I’m Jongup. This is Youngjae,” Jongup provided, jerking a thumb in Youngjae’s direction without looking.

“‘Sup,” was Youngjae’s eloquent reply.

After a minute of silence, where Jongup didn’t know what to say and Youngjae was typing furiously on his phone, probably sending out a mass text along the lines of _Yooooooooo there’s a fukn FAUN in my shop rn u guys #blessed,_ Himchan cleared his throat, getting to his feet again slowly.

Before Jongup could think his actions through, he sprang up from his chair to help Himchan, who looked equal parts grateful and slightly embarrassed.

“Thank you, Jongup. I do just fine on my own, but when you’re as ancient as I am, it’s nice to have some help.”

Jongup just nodded and smiled and tried to ignore how warm and happy and excited he felt, for the first time in a long time.

They’d made it all the way to the door, arm in arm, carefully, gingerly, when Himchan spoke again.

“Jongup. Do you like wine?”

Jongup frowned a little. “I mean, I don’t _not_ like it…” he said slowly, and Himchan grinned.

“I know a wonderful wine cellar across town. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” Himchan asked, and Jongup nearly blacked out. He had to force himself back to reality. He had to answer.

“Um. Okay. Sure. That sounds...cool. Cool cool cool. I mean...unless I shift into a puppy the second you leave, you’re on.” he mumbled, hoping like hell that wouldn’t actually happen.

Himchan nodded, a slight blush on his face now, enough for Jongup to notice and marvel at.

“I have faith in you, Jongup. That’s unlikely to happen. And if it does, I’ll just meet you back here and we’ll have a rousing game of fetch, hmm?”

Jongup ignored Youngjae’s exaggerated gagging sounds in the background long enough to nod. “Okay.” he repeated. Himchan left Jongup with the address of the restaurant and the time to meet him there, and then he was gone.

The minute the door closed behind him, Jongup whirled around, fists in the air in victory, smiling wider at Youngjae than he probably ever had. Youngjae chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Fuck. I guess I have to hand it to you, kid. Locking down a faun for a date is no joke. Be careful, though. I hear they’re real bossy in the sack.” Youngjae accepted the half-hearted slap Jongup aimed at his shoulder with a smile, gathering his bag from behind the counter and pushing his sunglasses back over his eyes, walking with purpose towards the door.

Jongup’s eyes widened. “Hey! Where the hell are you going?” he protested, and Youngjae turned around, his hand on the doorknob.

“Look, clearly that was the highlight of the day. I’m done. Day’s over. I’ll try again tomorrow when I’ve had a little soul-snack and I’m less bitchy. Good luck on your date, tiger. Knock ‘em dead.” He turned the doorknob, cursing at the sunlight once more, and stumbled out onto the street.

Jongup stood there for a minute in the middle of the shop, thinking. Going over the events of the last twenty minutes or so. He wandered over to the herbs again, peering at the jars and bins lined up in not-very-neat rows, labeled in Youngjae’s messy handwriting. He opened the chamomile jar absentmindedly, chewing on a few flowers before he made a face, spitting them out. Youngjae was right, you really shouldn’t just sit around chomping on plants with abandon, even if they were nice, friendly, calming plants.

Jongup’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out. There was a new text, from Youngjae.

_What does ur almanac think about tonights plans? U gonna get some sweet faun lovin?_

Jongup chuckled, picking the small book up off the counter and looking under Aquarius, and today’s date.

_You will meet a handsome stranger that will affect your life in ways you could hardly have imagined._

He was in the middle of texting Youngjae back when his coworker beat him to it.

_Shit, what about me? Am I gonna get any sweet lovin 2nite??_

Youngjae was an Aquarius too, but Jongup thought that maybe, just once, he deserved a bit of the shit he dished out. He typed a response quickly, then pressed send.

_Your horoscope says no._

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys want more magical kpop fic, let me know on [Tumblr](http://bulletproof-bad-writing.tumblr.com/), because I sure as hell do. :D


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